


Falling

by orphan_account



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Crack af, F/M, Sexy Time, Swing sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-27
Updated: 2015-10-27
Packaged: 2018-04-28 12:38:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 943
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5091038
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clara and the Doctor fuck on a swing. That's it, that's the story.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Falling

**Author's Note:**

> Hi, here's a weird crack fic drabble thing based on an image for The Zygon Invasion. No spoilers ofc. Just a piece of pretty mild smutty crap because we're all Twelve/Clara trash inside. Enjoy my pile of shit lmfao I can't write anymore.

London. A play park. A swing.

He brought Rose to a park like this on Doomsday. Was it Doomsday? Memories. Memories flood away. Memories are snatched by years and years of time and danger and /running/.

Clara Oswald is not a memory. Clara Oswald is flesh and blood, here and now. Clara Oswald is his salvation.

His hand, phone in grasp, drops to his lap. A small but ultimately Scottish sigh steams the cool air.  
"Do you need -" The brunette slips down the slide and bounces her way over to him in boot heels, "- cheering up?"  
"They're coming."  
"Ooh. Having a better time than us, then." He does not get the humour.  
"Hm."  
"Maybe we should..."  
"What?"  
"Well. Loosen up. Is that what they say?"  
Her hands are on his thighs in seconds - when did she get so close? Did he ever notice her response to the growing chemistry between them?  
"Clara..."  
"/Doctor/..."  
The swing rocks with a refusing groan as her tiny form attempts to slip atop the Doctor.  
"Clara, my Clara, we really can't-"  
"We're not stopping us," she states simply. In her smile there is the pure cheek of a woman in love (and a woman in lust).  
"I am...?"  
"No, no, /us/. Us from the future. If someone were to see us, we could jump in the TARDIS and stop this us from ever... Well. You get the picture. Right?"  
"It doesn't work-"  
"/Right/? Come on... /Old man/."

The Doctor is still begrudging by the time Clara has started the path to his member's freedom.  
"It's a learning curve."  
"It's idiotic." His countering accompanies his wild, furrowed eyebrows, as grey as the mood his expression suggests.  
"If it bothers you," the Blackpool lass hums, "we could stop. But you aren't fighting too much."  
"...It's not the most intimate of locations."  
"I'm tired of waiting." Clara grips the Doctor's spidery hands and presents them with her bosom. He, in return, turns scarlet.  
"I don't want t'-... t' /take it/ here..." The decrease in volume is perfectly juxtaposed by his companion's howling laughter.  
"Oh, Doctor, I'm not a virgin."  
"...PE?"  
"And-"  
"Enough, enough, I don't need t'- Oh, /Clara/..."

A delicate hand has found a somewhat solid attachment. The owner of said hand purrs, enough to make the appendage shudder, as she strokes and rubs and plays with the veiny, throbbing cock. A glance down washes away any fears.  
"It's normal." She sounds too reassured, as if the matter has been on her mind so often that she was convinced of it being green or some such.  
"Normal?" Offended? Certainly. When isn't he?  
"Large, yes, but-"  
"Focus on the large. I think most races have that in common."  
"Large... Very, very, very-"

Clara's dramatic and saucy reverie is snatched from her lips in the most forceful of ways: the Doctor pulls her flush against him, further encouraging her plan.  
"Doctor!"  
"/You/ wanted t'-"  
"Oh."  
"'Oh' indeed... /Oh/..."  
The struggle ends well, with the alien managing to slip himself inside the young human. It's not all in, of course, far from it, but her pushing down and gentle rocking is enough approval for him to enjoy himself.

Silence.

"I love you."  
"I know."  
Clara slaps his arm. "Oi!"  
"I love you too."  
It shouldn't pass his lips as easily as it does, for she is a ghost. Dust on the jacket of a book; she settles, for a good while, but she cannot remain in his life forever. Certainly not in the way he wants.

Their movement starts off as slow, for the swing they sit upon does as the name suggests with even the tiny attempts they are making. It's such a shame that Clara is not a patient woman, and her slick walls clamp around him in some bizarre form of safety as she lifts and falls, lifts and falls, lifts and-  
"Oh my stars!" She cries out, leading to the Doctor to show some concern in the form of stopping his juddering hips. "Don't you dare... Don't you /dare/..."  
The mobile sits still on the floor, having fallen from his hand at some point. He pays no attention. He can't remember ever holding the technology.

Small gasps turn to loud moans and staggered breaths. Cupping turns to squeezing, pinching, kissing. Speaking turns to kissing. The Doctor kisses Clara like a man possessed, for that's exactly what he is. It's a miracle that the streets are still silent and the children still at school, for they're moving together like there's no tomorrow and they certainly won't be stopping shortly. The seat they have chosen to defile never stops its frantic shaking at their activity, horrified at the way the young woman has convinced the older gentleman to provide the park with sin. 

Her beauty wasn't the first thing to capture him and he likes that. He likes his passion for her mystery and, above all else, her curiosity. She has a desire to learn and travel that he hasn't truly experienced before. Clara cares about the Doctor, not the Time Lord. She cares about the people. What needs to be done.

The Doctor didn't lie. He does love Clara Oswald.

"I'm going to-(!)"  
"I know..."

Her smile. Her laugh. Her big, brown eyes; dark pools of beauty.

"Please!"

Her height. God, he loves her height. Her legs, /her legs/, and that perfectly rounded backside. Did he ever experience a woman like her before?

"Oh, Doctor..."

That's what Clara Oswald is: an experience. She's more than an average person, so much more than an English teacher from the north of England.

Clara collapses against him. Against her idiot. Naturally, he falls.


End file.
